


He's A Little Into It...

by Beethovensbitxh



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV 2020)
Genre: I'm not allowed to play hockey anymore..., M/M, also projected A LOT, and I did cry a lil, based off a Tumblr post I made, but call your mother entertained me, but only because I'm mentally ill, but we don't need to talk about that, i put off finishing this for way too long, no beta we eat bad hotdogs, this thing was just called Hockey Boyfriends for a long ass time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:41:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29835471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beethovensbitxh/pseuds/Beethovensbitxh
Summary: Willex Hockey AU where Willie and Alex are on opposite teams.
Relationships: Alex Mercer/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 82





	He's A Little Into It...

Alex had anger issues. That wasn’t a big secret. He’d always been... well wound up a little tight. His friends knew the feeling of the silent treatment a little too well. It got worse after Junior Year, and he needed something to do to get his anger out. That’s how he found the ad for a defenseman at Santa Monica Hockey and Figure Skating. 

He was the worst type of defenseman. The body-slam-you-against-the-wall-and-gets-put-in-the-penalty-box-4-times-in-one-quarter type of player. His friends found it entertaining as hell though. 

They came to every game and meet, even though Alex had told them they didn’t have to. Bobby was always the first to protest, and always the first to grab the keys to his dad's van. It was the only vehicle with enough space for all 5 of them and Alex’s gear. 

Julie would be the next, grabbing onto Lukes hand and pulling him out the door, yelling about how Alex’s hobbies were also their hobbies. Luke just grinned goofily and gave him a look that screamed “Shes right and I can’t disagree with her because I’m a simp”. 

Reggie would clap him on the shoulder and follow his friends lead, chuckling the whole way. He wasn’t usually one to argue with people, but his silent agreement told you everything he needed to express. 

And every time, every single time, Alex would smile and shake his head, before following them all out the door to the van. He’d throw his bag in the back and climb into the back seat behind Bobby. Most days, he’d kick the back of the seat and sing loudly, which Bobby would reply to with a glare in the rear-view mirror. 

They were always going to come, and they were most certainly always going to be the loudest in the crowd, no matter how big or small it was. 

\------ 

Willie had too much free time. That’s how he took up skateboarding, but when his board broke and his uncle refused to buy him a new one, he had to find another option to calm his constantly fidgeting mind. 

Seeing the ad looking for a right-wing player while walking past LA Ice Expo was a gamechanger... or an opportunity, whatever word you wanted to use. Willie rushed inside and not 15 minutes later had a spot on the tryout list. 

Unlike Alex, he didn’t have many friends that would willingly spend time in a cold arena to watch 20 dudes flail around on ice. 

Just being on the ice felt... it felt therapeutic, like he had all the time in the world and so little to do, even if there was an active game happening. He could close his eyes and skate in circles for hours, so long as a certain blonde wasn’t on the ice at the same time. 

\------ 

For as long as either had been on the teams, and before, The Pied Pipers (of Santa Monica) and The LA Temptations had been sworn enemies. No one really knew why, but there were rumors abound about a blood feud between the founders or a game that went disastrous. Whatever caused it, it ran deep within the coaches and the players. 

When it came time for Alex’s first game against the Temptations, it became abundantly clear just how long it’d been around. According to their goalie Julien, most of the players were friends off ice, but as soon as it came time for a game, they were at each other's throats. 

Willie was... taken aback so say the least... by the cute new defensemen with blonde hair and who was so hotheaded he could rip someone's head off. He only caught the guys last name though. Mercer. It seemed... it seemed so innocent. Who would think a guy with the last name Mercer was a hockey player with rage issues? Not Willie. 

It took Willie a few games against The Pied Pipers to realize that this Mercer guy got flustered way too easily. He’d caught Willie admiring him sometimes and turn such a bright shade of red he could blend into the ice after a rough fight. A fight that was, most times, initiated by him. 

He also figured out the 4 people cheering every time he slammed someone up against the glass were his friends. Just listening to them chant “Alex! Alex! Alex!” gave Willie his name. Alex Mercer. 

Willie was a big fan of playing dirty, but not in the sense of sabotage, just little mind games. He started sending winks and smirks Alex’s way whenever he knew he was looking and calling out not entirely appropriate compliments. 

“That was pretty hot Mercer!” He yelled right after a buzzer beater as Alex turned back towards his teammates, but the sheer shock of hearing it sent Alex into the wall, almost falling right over the top. He had to catch his balance before he actually did topple. 

He sat out a few minutes to regain his composure. Or whatever composure he’d had beforehand. Alex knew none of his friends would let him forget this. 

A few games and a few weeks of being terrorized by his friends constantly calling out “That was hot Mercer!” and “Gonna fall over another wall?”, Alex finally went head-to-head with this guy. 

He’d only known him as Covington, since no one on the team called him anything else, and he never seemed to have anyone cheering for him from the stands. Alex barely knew anything about him, except that he was very cute and very good at job. On occasion, strands of his hair would fall into his face from under his helmet and frame his face perfectly. 

Luke sometimes joked that Alex was “whipped”. 

June 18th was the day it all went down. The day of The Incident. 

Halfway through quarter 3, with 7 minutes and 43 seconds on the clock, The Pied Pipers were down 3-7. Alex hadn’t been having a good day, and his head was not where it needed to be. That same morning, he’d packed up all his possessions into two suitcases and left. Julie had offered to let him crash in her garage, but Alex had an apartment lined up with Luke, who’d been living out of Bobby’s garage for 6 months. 

His game was... off. He’d missed three shots and let the left-wing get past him twice after he got distracted. That’s when it happened, like a little blessing from above, albeit, in a rather strange shape. 

No one knew who threw it, or why even, but somehow a hotdog had landed on the ice. It was like slow-motion, and Alex wasn’t sure if he hadn’t seen it or had just been too distracted by the day's events, but he hit in straight on. Full toe pick. 

He hadn’t even seen Covington in front of him when it happened, but he sure as hell saw him as Alex was catapulted into him. His chest specifically. 

They landed with a grunt and in a not so graceful position. “Dude! You’re scratching my stick!” Willie groaned, and pushed himself up, hovering over Alex. Alex, however, was too occupied writhing in pain to notice his cute rival still on top of him. 

“Your stick?” He said hoarsely, “I think I’m lying on the puck.” 

\------

Alex was helped off the ice with a minor concussion and a welt on his back the size of someone’s fist. He was out for the rest of the game. When it ended, the Pied Pipers had 5 to the Temptations 12. 

Willie only walked away with a sore arm and a stick in need of some new taping. He felt kind of bad. It wasn’t Alex’s fault; it was that damned hot dogs. 

“Nice skatin’ out there hotdog” he joked as he pulled his shirt over his head, and Alex had to look back towards the locker for a moment. “Ye-yeah” he cleared his throat, shoving his gloves into an empty crevice in his bag. 

“Wait... hotdog? It’s not Mercer anymore?” “Well yeah... not since you tripped over a hotdog and nearly broke my stick...” Willie chuckled, slinging his own bag over his shoulder. “Fair...” Alex furrowed his brow as he spoke, “Sorry ‘bout that by the way.” 

Willie nodded, “It’s totally cool. Needed new tape anyway. Now I have an excuse. Willie by the way-” He stuck his hand out, and Alex grabbed it, a little more enthusiastically than he’d been trying to. 

“Alex-” 

“Oh yeah! I- uh... I know! Or uh... like, yeah. Uh.” He stumbled over his words as Alex laughed, “Can we start over?” Willie scrunched his nose and clenched his fists, and Alex nodded, extending his hand. 

“I’m Alex.” “Willie.” 

It was quiet for a second, as they held on to each other's hands, not even shaking them anymore. Alex suddenly pulled it back as he heard “Lex! Comin’ or not!” from down the hall. “Bobby...” he muttered, picking up his bag. “Sorry... they’re my friends... they-” 

Willie cut him off, “Oh no no! Don’t worry! Go. It’s nice meeting you.” he smiled, and Alex fought back every temptation he had right there. 

It was a little awkward when they both tried to walk out of the door the same way, bumping into each other with their shoulder. “Oh... same way... awkward...” Willie cleared his throat and backed up, letting Alex go first. He thought he heard a “thanks” whispered, but the sound of other men cheering in the rink drowned it out. 

“Alex! Finally! What took you so- oh...” Luke trailed off at the sight of Willie. “Oh my god. You’re the guy that always flirts with Alex on the ice!” Julie pointed at him, as Reggie laughed at the sight of Alex’s extremely red face. 

Willie squinted and laughed, “Yeah... me... Willie.” He introduced himself, holding up his hand to wave, nearly dropping his bag. 

“Willie... nice to put the name to the... face...” Bobby nodded, and shot a look toward Alex, who was clenching his jaw so tightly Bobby thought his eyes might pop out of his school. 

“Willie, you should come with us to dinner!” “Julie-” Julie held a hand up to cut Alex off, “It’s kinda a- a tradition. We have room in the van for another!” Julie was, in the absolute worst terms, the nicest person ever. But Alex couldn’t hate her for it; it's how she’d always been. 

He had no clue how she and Luke were still together. He was annoying as hell sometimes. 

\------

So, Willie found himself crammed into Bobby’s van between two duffel bags and the guy he sorta, kinda, maybe had a crush on. He didn’t exactly expect a 4-star restaurant, but he definitely didn’t expect a dingy diner in the middle of North Hollywood. 

“Are you guys sure this is... safe?” He peered out the window, the neon lights of the open signing nearly blinding him. “Oh totally. Bobby’s only gotten sick like... twice...” Reggie turned around and kneeled into his seat, and Bobby slammed on his breaks, sending Reggie back into the dashboard with a thud. 

“Really!” “Yeah, Reg... yeah...” 

As they sat around, eating thinly cut french fries and laughing about nothing, Willie looked around and wondered _how the fuck did Hotdog get so lucky?_

As their team's rivalry grew, so did Willie’s family. 5 new people had forced him into a van and practically adopted him. Dinners got more often, and whoever lost bought dinner. At least when they played against each other. Willie went to Alex’s other games. Alex went to Willie’s other games. Luke, Bobby, Reggie, and Julie slowly became _their_ biggest fan. 

Sometimes glances lingered, and Willie's hand on Alex’s shoulder made him blush so hard that his face matched the shade of red on his jersey. Luke would laugh and Reggie would raise his eyebrows towards Bobby, who would smack his arm with a grin. Willie was always getting mixed signals from them. 

Hangouts sometimes turned into longer hangouts, and Alex would occasionally crash on Willie’s couch. And practices together weren’t super uncommon anymore. 

And somehow, through all of it, neither of them realized there was a disco ball hidden in the ceiling of the rink. That is until someone let it down during one of their practices. 

“What... is going on?” Alex cocked an eyebrow, watching the lights decorate the walls. “Never seen a disco ball?” Willie turned, and Alex’s breath caught in his throat seeing the light fractions bounce off his face, lighting up his face. 

“Care to dance hotdog?” He extended a hand, and Alex looked between it and his face. “We’re on ice-” Willie laughed, looking down to his skates and letting his hair fall into his face, “What like it’s hard?” 

So, Alex took his hand, pushing stray pucks out of the way with a quick flick of his blade. And much like the famous incident that garnered Alex’s nickname, he tripped, sending both of them crashing into the ice. 

“Ya know... if you wanted to be on top of me Mercer, all you had to do was ask me out...” It sounded a lot dirtier than Willie had intended it to, and Alex struggled to say anything. 

“Not uh... not-not Hotdog anymore?” 

“Oh, are you kidding me? Mercer is reserved for when you’re being cute. Can’t believe you didn’t pick up on that.” 

Alex’s face flushed, going nearly as white as the ice. “Like now...” Willie said softly, brushing Alexs hair behind his ear and lifting himself up, just enough to kiss him. It wasn’t deep, or hard, just a small, soft peck on his lips. It didn’t stop Alex from nearly short circuiting though. 

“Okay... now that that’s out of the way... whaddaya say we get actual drinks? Not that cheap coffee crap you get at the diner.” 

**Author's Note:**

> the title was suggested by @thegirlfulloffandoms on tumblr like a month ago and I never found an excuse to use it.... until now
> 
> also thank you to all my friends that witnessed me have a mental breakdown as I tried to finish this


End file.
